


Not In Control

by WhatICantShowYou



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Come Inflation, Dry Sex, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Magic Made Them Do It, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:55:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26527849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatICantShowYou/pseuds/WhatICantShowYou
Summary: Geralt is controlled by a monster and forced to take Jaskier, slipping in and out of consciousness as he tries to regain his senses.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 7
Kudos: 163





	Not In Control

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Okay, but Mind Controled Geralt, who rapes Jaskier (without prep) but he manages to break the control and apologizes/pulls out, before it snaps back. This repeats, and at first Jaskier is glad, because Geralt isn’t actually raping him, just the moster or whatever, and hopeful that it will now stop, but after a few repeats he just like, keep going, it hurt more if you try to stop. (Jaskier stays the whole time flaccid) +Shit Tons of Rounds +Cum Inflattion +Concept if you like, that Geralt is still on potions, so his cum actually hurts/burns to the touch

“ _Shit_ , that was close!” Jaskier let out his breath as he watched the witcher let go of his sword, letting it fall to the ground with a loud _clang_ and seemed to relax his muscles. The hunt had been quick but eventful, Geralt practically dancing his way through the fight as he slashed and hacked at the monster. It would make a rich song, the bard mused, smiling to himself as he waited for Geralt to return with the corpse to where he was stood hidden by a tree. 

Silence stretched on for a full minute before any movement was visible from the other, Jaskier’s brows drawn together as he watched Geralt intently from his hiding place. The witcher swayed just barely where his feet were rooted to the ground, his right hand twitching as if wanting to reach down for his silver blade once more where he had dropped it. The scene made the bard uneasy, Jaskier peeking around the tree trunk to get a better picture. Geralt then turned around slowly, his face mapped by dark veins and pitch black eyes darting around the place until they settled on the bard. He stalked over in a determined manner, legs twitching the tiniest amount with each step closer.

“Geralt? Are you-” Jaskier’s voice faltered as no recognition was found in the witcher’s face, his eyes still glued to him as if in a trance. He took one step back in defence as he kept looking the man up and down, studying his unusual movements with wary eyes. He found his voice once more, leaning over to look at the beast slain by his companion. “Are you feeling well? Is it the potion? I could-”

The bard felt his stomach drop as he got a better look at the monster, before hidden by the witcher’s hulking form. His insides tied up in knots as he saw the rising and falling skin, the beast letting out ragged breaths as it laid still on the ground. It was still alive and the witcher was getting close. In a feeble attempt to protect himself, Jaskier reached down for a large stick, arms trembling as he held it out as a barrier between the two. 

“Geralt-” His voice was cut off by a threatening growl, Geralt suddenly leaping forward. In less than a second the make-shift weapon was thrown to the ground and Jaskier backed up against a large tree, the bark digging into his back as strong hands gripped both his biceps. 

“I’m not-” Geralt looked remorseful, his brows knitted together as he trembled in his place. His voice was rough, as if forced out between his teeth and layers of unconsciousness. It was all he got out before his throat tied together once more and his lungs let out a loud growl instead; not that Jaskier needed more, his brain stitching together the rest. _I’m not in control._

The change was immediate, eyes glazing over as the witcher crowded him up against the tree, his body not budging against Jaskier’s attempt to shake him off. One hand lost it’s grip and travelled down the bard’s front, fingers trembling with the man’s battle to regain control before finding the edges of his doublet, ripping it open and sending buttons to scatter on the forest floor. His shirt followed suit , the fabric shucked off in a heap on the ground as Jaskier protested at the violent treatment, his free hand pushing at Geralt’s left shoulder. 

A sharp snarl shut him up as he watched the other bare his teeth, dark eyes now distant and uncaring for what the bard had to say. Gone were the twitching muscles and concerned face, Geralt consumed by the beast’s control and his instincts in charge. Jaskier yelped as the face burrowed into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply and letting out a pleased groan at the scent of his fear. Hands travelled down his torso and hooked into his trousers, forcing them down past his knees in jerky motions as the seams protested at the brutal treatment.

“No-” Jaskier pushed as hard as he could against the mountain of a man before him, stilling only when sharp teeth dragged against his pulse and threatened to dig in. Sword-calloused fingers gripped his waist hard, denting his skin as they forced him to turn around and brace himself against the tree. Rustling behind him alerted Jaskier of the specifics of his situation, tears welling up in his eyes as he felt the blunt head of the witcher’s cock push against his entrance. “Geralt, please, let me… My bags! I have some oil-”

Teeth scraped against the back of his neck as the man forcefully shoved himself inside, the head popping in just barely as blinding pain shot up the bard’s spine. His voice rose into a tortured wail, his knees shaking as he felt the member inside of him stab at his insides. The dry friction made his tears spill over, Jaskier shaking as Geralt insistently pushed himself inside, rocking his hips to breach past each attempt the bard’s body had to stop the invading length. A grunt following the man’s cease of movement alerted him that he was fully seated inside, Jaskier sobbing openly at the large intrusion holding him open and stuffed full beyond capacity. 

The stillness lasted all but ten seconds, far from enough to calm the bard down before the other harshly pulled out halfway, snapping his hips back sharply with another grunt. The pain shot straight through him and left Jaskier trembling, begging nonsensically for Geralt to come back, to please please _please, let me go!_ His wishes fell upon deaf ears, or even worse were ignored by the larger man, as he kept thrusting his dry member inside of him without remorse. 

What felt like hours went by before the other stilled, an animalistic sound welling up behind Jaskier as Geralt ground himself inside, hips snug against his arse as his member pulsed long and hard. Sharp teeth parted his skin in blinding pleasure as Jaskier felt the rush of hot come unload inside of him, a whimper escaping his lips as the faint scent of metal filled the air around them. 

Relief washed over him as the spend shot up inside of him, pushed back by his tight walls to slick the dry intrusion, the comfort short-lived as a prickling sensation immediately took over. What would have been a soothing treatment turned out to be a wildfire burning him from the inside, the hot come seeping into the tears in his guts and making him see double as pain overloaded his brain. A vague memory of Geralt talking about the effect his potions had on his _entire_ physiology made an appearance, Jaskier crying out as the burn increased with each second that passed by.

The bard was fighting against pain-induced nausea when he felt Geralt’s grip change, dry heaving against the bark of the tree as the other hastily pulled out from him. Jaskier hissed at the friction, tasting his own tears as they rolled down his face, and turned around to plead mercy to the man. The witcher had a wild expression on his face, pure terror visible as he took in the sight before him.

“Jaskier, I-” Geralt winced as if in pain and his hands once more tightened around the bard’s waist, a whine escaping the man as he battled back the beast’s control. Without opening his eyes, Geralt shoved Jaskier to the ground, loudly ordering him to flee - _get away, Jaskier!_ \- before his body once more trembled, muscled contracting hard as he fought off the monster. Jaskier didn’t even get a second to react before he felt the weight of the witcher upon his back, the last remaining clothes ripped away from his knees and thrown god-knows-where as Geralt spread his legs wide to fit between them. 

A groan was punched out of him as the thick member once more forced its way inside, this time aided by the sticky come and blood that slicked the way. Jaskier got a good view of the beast in his new position, how it struggled to breathe while it had Geralt wrapped around its metaphorical finger, a lump on the ground trying to recuperate from the fight as it distracted its attacker. Quickly, Jaskier’s mind was elsewhere as the witcher started up his brutal pace again, rubbing his insides raw while spreading the burning spend against his wounds.

The only comfort Jaskier felt was the knowledge that both of them were completely out of control, Jaskier far too weak to fight off a witcher by his own accord and Geralt lost to the powers of the monster. For a brief moment he wondered if he could even stomach the idea of Geralt doing this willingly, eyes stinging at the mere thought. Before long, the man once again stilled, biting down to deafen his shout as he spent himself inside the man for a second time. The sheer amount was enough to have Jaskier’s head spinning, the volume quickly adding up to weight the bard down, it all magnified tenfolds as the potion-spiked come burnt his nerves like acid poured on a fresh cut.

Once more the witcher seemed to regain some of his control as the afterglow poured over him, gasping and gritting his teeth before pulling out and pushing Jaskier away from him. He had no power to move, Jaskier’s thighs trembling and head swirling with pained nausea from the abuse. He fell to a heap on the ground, his body screaming in agony with the movement as it rustled his insides, his gaping hole leaking witcher spend down his balls and thighs. The sticky mess made his skin heat up, come burning his skin in it’s trail.

Jaskier’s brain clocked out by the third time his entrance was brutally stretched, only vaguely aware of the various positions he was taken in and the dull ache hiding the true damage dealt to his insides. He surfaced every once in a while as his skin stung, teeth marking his collarbones, neck and shoulders repeatedly, only to disappear into the lulled headspace his brain provided as an escape. A rough hand insistently pulled and prodded his cock, it never filling out past half-mast as his body protested, Jaskier pawing at the grip each time to be left alone in his agony.

He came back to himself as the sun approached the horizon, confused over the prolonged downtime he got from the witcher. He watched as Geralt stared at his own hands, dark veins now gone and pupils slowly contracting back into slits as the potion had run its course. In a flurry of movement and sounds, Jaskier saw the man get to his feet, following his trembling walk across the small opening back to the beast. His knees wobbled as he fell to the ground, gripping the hilt of his sword in weak hands and rising it above his head, sinking the silver into the monster before him as he grunted in pain. His muscles instantly relaxed, Geralt slumping over as he panted hard and fast. 

Jaskier closed his eyes for but a moment only to see the witcher kneeling before him as he opened them again, mind still hazy and scattered as his body came back to him slowly. 

“... you okay? Jaskier, do you hear me?” Geralt’s voice pierced the dull ringing in his ears as Jaskier groaned, willing his arms to push him off the ground. Instantly Geralt eased him back down with a worried expression, letting go of him as soon as possible to minimise the contact between them. Had Jaskier not spent the past years by the man’s side, he would have missed the pained face he made, the trembling lip as he watched the man he had brutalised for the past minutes - hours? Jaskier wasn’t sure - shake and cry on the ground before him.

Warm hands gently touched upon his belly, the bard’s gaze following the sensation and a gasp escaping him as he saw the taut skin. Under Geralt’s palm was his stomach distended as if Jaksier had just gorged himself on a feast fit for a whole family. His brain caught up soon after as cramps came over him in waves. The witcher made another pained sound as he put some of his weight upon the bulge, pushing down and whispering his apologies as sticky seed shot out of Jaskier’s hole.

Jaskier mumbled reassuring words, his voice slurred as he trembled all over and choked on his own sobs. He knew Geralt hadn’t done it on purpose, knew the man hurted from the scene laid out before him. Yet, he couldn’t help but wince with each brush of the witcher’s hands against his skin, couldn’t stop the way his body tried to curl away from the man before him in fear of another painful round. He knew he was safe, but the words spilling out between the teeth that had marked his skin made him quiver in fear as his brain retreated to the safety of unconsciousness, far away from the man that hurt him.

**Author's Note:**

> Back on tumblr with a new account. Follow me @whaticannotshowyou and send me your own prompts!


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